Chapter One
The low roar of the rapids echoed off the rock walls of the canyon. It was time to run the most-feared white water on Oregon’s famous Rogue River. More flips and rafters overboard happened in the raging water ahead on the Blossom Bar rapids each year than any other place on the wild and scenic river.
“Wait for my call,” Josh Tanner, the guide, told the two clients in the front of his thirteen-foot white water raft. “I’ll steer to the left side. Then, Drake, dig hard on my call to turn us to the right into the center eddy. Then both of you pull to get us around the big boulder on the right.”
The woman on the left in the front of the raft swept her wet blonde hair out of her flashing blue eyes. “If this is the last big one, Josh, let’s really get wet this time.”
“You’re already wet, Liz,” Josh reminded his excited rafter. After three days on the Rogue, she was still yelling for more through each set of rapids. “If we hit the rock wall on your side, be sure to brace yourself for the impact. If you go swimming, remember what you’re supposed to do.”
“If she goes swimming,” Drake said, “she buys dinner tonight at the lodge.”
“And if I don’t—” she laughed as she splashed him with a stroke of her oar “—you owe me another raft trip next year.”
Tanner ignored their banter and focused on the narrow gap between the sheer rock wall ahead on the left and the huge boulders on the right. Before it had been blasted with dynamite years ago, to make a passage through the boulder garden, you had to portage around the treacherous waters. Blossom Bar got its name from the wild azaleas that bloomed there but Tanner knew they were the only pretty things about the rapids. Too many close calls made him uncomfortable with what lay ahead.
He knew his friend and the beautiful woman beside him could take care of themselves. He played football with Adam Drake at the University of Oregon and number 45 had been an NFL-quality middle linebacker. But he passed on the opportunity to play pro football because he’d promised his mother that he would go to law school. Drake’s mother had been killed by a drunk driver in his last year at law school. After the 9/11 terrorist attack on 9/11, he’d enlisted in the army. Instead of beginning a law career, he honored the memory of his Green Beret dad and harnessed his grief and anger over the senseless death of his mother to become an elite Special Forces warrior. Drake knew how to take care of himself.
His lady friend and former FBI agent was another matter. From what he’d learned from Drake, she had climbed the FBI ladder quickly and landed a top job in the Department of Homeland Security. But Tanner was suspicious of women who were so quickly successful in a boys’ club like the FBI. Had she been successful because of her sex and good looks or was she as capable as she seemed to be? So far, he hadn’t seen anything that answered the question.
Tanner steered the raft to the left, aiming straight at the towering rock wall ahead. The river narrowed to no more than fifteen feet between the wall and three jagged boulders then veered sharply to the right. The raft would accelerate through the channel then drop ten feet just before they hit a wall of white water. If they slipped too far to the left at that point, the raft would flip to the left and throw them all into the raging river. If they hit the huge boulder on the right, that impact could flip them as well.
“Dig hard, Drake,” he yelled. “I’m too far left!”
Drake pulled deeply with his oar three times before the raft slammed into the rock wall. The impact threw Liz overboard as the raft careened off the wall.
Drake jumped across the raft to grab her, but the current pulled her down deep under the raft and out of sight.
“Drake,” Tanner yelled, “dig hard or we’ll join her!”
Drake threw himself back across the front of the raft and into position and started rowing as fast as he could. He searched frantically downstream for a flash of her orange life jacket.
As they scraped against the huge boulder on the right and bounced out into the center eddy of the river, Drake saw her life jacket pop to the surface. Liz was floating face down thirty yards ahead of them.
Drake tossed his oar onto the floor of the raft and jumped into the river. In the swift current, he swam furiously, raising his head every fourth stroke to make sure he didn’t swim past her.
After a long, eternal minute, his right hand slapped down on the back of her life jacket. Reaching ahead, he lifted her head back with his right hand and pulled her tight against him with his left arm. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t breathing.
Drake twisted around to see where the raft was and saw Tanner pointing to the riverbank at the end of the eddy. A narrow strip of a gravel bar offered the only break in the steep walls of the canyon.
Drake turned around and side-stroked across the current, pulling Liz behind him; when he reached the shallow water next to the gravel bar, he crab-walked back until he could drag her upper body up onto the gravel bar. Kneeling beside her, he began CPR and waved to Tanner to join him.
As he dragged the raft as high onto the gravel bar as he could, he asked, “How is she?”
“Unconscious and not breathing,” Drake panted. “There’s a deep gash on the back of her head.”
“Let me call for help and then I’ll spell you,” Tanner said and reached back into the raft beside him. He kept a Motorola waterproof two-way radio for emergencies in the raft and knew the other guides on the river did as well.
He checked his Seiko dive watch. The jet boat from Gold Beach ended his run at the bottom of Blossom Bar before turning around and, if it was on schedule, should be close.
“Dick,” he said, holding the radio close to his mouth, “this is Josh Tanner. We’re at the bottom of Blossom Bar with an unconscious rafter. Are you close?”
“Five minutes away,” the jet boat captain answered. “What do you need?”
“The lifeguard first responder bag, if you still carry it, and a fast run to Gold Beach.”
“You got it.”
Drake was leaning down, checking to see if Liz was breathing. “She coughed up some water and is breathing but still unconscious,” he said.
“My friend’s jet boat is close, he’ll run her down to the hospital. I’ll call ahead and have an ambulance waiting,” Tanner advised and sat down on the gravel bar next to Liz. He watched her for a moment and looked up at Drake. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never had a swimmer at Blossom Bar before. I thought I knew that stretch of river.”
“You warned us, Josh. It’s not your fault. I should have kept my eye on her until we got through there.”
Drake took his life jacket off, put it under Liz’s head and turned to watch for the jet boat racing toward them. It wasn’t the end to the three-day adventure he’d planned. That was supposed to be two nights with Liz at the luxurious Tu Tu Tun Lodge down river; dinner prepared by its French-trained chef and a hot tub on the balcony of their room overlooking the river.
